


The Sins Behind Us

by photonromance



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Implied Threat of Sexual Assault, M/M, Pre-Surak AU, Slave Trade, War Making, pre-surak!Spock, slave AU, slave!Jim, slave!McCoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 06:23:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21011207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/photonromance/pseuds/photonromance
Summary: Leonard McCoy was a warrior once. Seduced by the thrill of war. A mistake. One he will pay for. But the price may be more salvation than damnation.





	The Sins Behind Us

**Author's Note:**

> An old ficlet I missed and thought I might share. Related works are so fckin welcome, you have no idea.

Leonard "Bones" McCoy is a young healer when he is taken by the clan army and trained to kill. 

Skilled and ruthless, he destroys hundreds of Men at his Lord's command. Until he is ordered to behead a mere boy that stands in the way of their warring. He is only defending his mother and the younger boy still clinging to her neck. The boy holds a sword much too large for his small size. His father's. Likely one of the men Leonard killed at the city gate. He is ordered to kill the boy.

To his eternal shame, Leonard obeyed the command of his Lord.

The city is won and Leonard lays down his blade at his Clan Lord's feet and swears, he will never touch a blade again. Leonard swears never to spill the blood of any man on the battlefield. 

Enraged, the Lord has his hands bound and his war braids shorn. Leonard is marched through the streets, naked and painted in white slave's paste.

He is sold.

~*~

Taken from his homeworld, Leonard is traded and bartered for. "A brave warrior." They shout at first, "Just needs a little _persuasion_."

They beat him.

Twice, he stands at the knife edge of Death and he prays for release. He is not granted his wish. Then they no longer call him Warrior. He is useful only for labor and pleasure and the slavers shout words in many languages that mean 'durable' and 'strong' and _'virgin'_.

Space means only darkness and silence in the slavers hold, cold and alone. 

The slavers say they are going to a planet where a warrior of his breeding will be valued. They need not know he is a broken soldier, one reasons, that he will not fight is not our concern. Leonard rests his head on his folded arm and closes his eyes. He prays for a dreamless sleep. This mercy, he is permitted.

~*~

The planet is a desert. 

When he is hauled from the cargo bay, he is blinded by the force of their sun. For seven minutes, he is blind. Dragged through the dusty market, touched on all sides by prospecting buyers. His arms and thighs are squeezed and slapped and his mouth is pried open to examine his teeth. Leonard is not a warrior any more. He is barely human.

They chain him to a metal spike buried in the solid rock and leave him in his tattered pants to burn in the scorching sun.

He is already burned, skin red and hot, inflamed with the damage of too long in direct sunlight, when a hand touches his cheek. "Jim." A voice says distantly, "We are not here to purchase slaves." The hand turns his face to better examine him. Leonard has endured this for long enough to know the hand on him is taking care to be gentle.  
"This man-"

"A warrior!" The slaver shouts from the shade.

The hand turns Leonard's face to meet his eyes. He knows their value as a slave to men's pleasure. One eye is hazel, the other pale blue. A genetic marvel.

The man holding his chin in unimpressed.

"You are a healer, not a warrior." He says, so sure. Leonard nods, barely, just a jerk of his head in the stranger's hand. The man releases him gently and turns to the slavers, watching from their tent.

They argue and a man with black hair down his back in braids, so like the ones Leonard once bore proudly, and light armor across his shoulders and side, silences them with just a few words. The smaller man with him, blonde and dressed in light linens and gold jewelry, slips a few bangles from one wrist and offers them.

The slavers snatch them up and Leonard is unchained. The blonde man, the man with the warm honey colored eyes, takes Leonard's arm and helps him rise. "He is gravely damaged, Jim. There is no guarantee he will return your favor." The dark haired man warns. He looks like a fighter, ranking high if these beings display skill with decoration the way his own people do.

"He needs water." The one called Jim says softly, "Some salve for these sunburns."

He smiles at Leonard, but gently, trying to be soothing. "I know how much those burns hurt, I had them just as bad when I first arrived." He is careful not to touch them and Leonard limps beside him. The warrior walks behind them.

"Have I a master now?" Leonard asks, tongue dry and rasping.

Jim's smile melts. "Spock is not like that." He says, speaking low against Leonard's cheek, "I was gifted to him six rotations ago. He was cold then. But it's different now. We are t'hy'la and to be bonded the next time the fever takes him."

"A pleasure slave." Leonard translates.

Jim laughs, bells in the hot wind. "Nothing so simple, my friend."

Leonard is hoisted onto a riding creature and Jim climbs up behind him. "You will not made to fight or pleasure any man." The warrior, Spock, says, throwing a loose bundle of cloth up to Jim. It's dusky red and sheer and Jim pulls it over Leonard's head. 

His world goes dim and soft and Jim puts am arm around him. "This world is not the hell you imagine." Jim murmurs, "We ask you to heal our wounded and care for the sick. In return you will be provided food and shelter and a safe place to sleep. No one will force you to do anything ever again."

Leonard wants to believe him. Gods, he wants to believe this honey eyed man and the warrior master that trails his so called slave. Leonard leans his burned shoulders back against Jim's chest and lets himself doze off in the oppressive heat. He feels Jim tuck the veil to keep him comfortable and thinks maybe this really won't be the hell he dreams. Maybe Jim means it.

~*~

When they reach camp, Leonard learns that Spock is not much of a master at all. He creates Leonard a pallet of soft furs and pillows and carries him from the saddle to the little bed. He is gone most days, hunting and scouting for a new place for the nomadic clan to camp. Jim tends to Leonard during those days, bringing him water and soothing his burns with a bitter smelling salve. It’s blissfully cold and Jim rubs it in gently before applying a thicker layer to sit. Jim feeds him soft bread slathered in a sweet jam and measures his hips and shoulders for new clothes.

The burns heal and Leonard is strong enough to walk with Jim to the tent of the woman that made his clothes. She is elderly and kind and tells Leonard he has beautiful eyes. She makes him light trousers that fit properly at the hips and swing loose around his ankles. The shirt has long sleeves and an open neck and it’s comfortable in the heat. Jim smiles and crosses his arms over his bare stomach.

Leonard’s hair had grown back during his captivity, ragged and tangled. Spock returned near to supper and brought fresh meat. He and the other hunters gathered at the main fire and began preparing the meal while Jim had Leonard sit behind the tent. Now that he was strong enough, he would be presented to the clan as their newest healer and Jim needed to prepare him. 

“A warrior’s hair is very important in our culture.” Jim explained, pressing Leonard to lean over a water basin, “though you are not a warrior, your occupation as a healer will be apparent in your hair.” He washed and combed the snags from Leonard’s hair and pressed out the water with a thick cloth.

“You don’t need to do this.” Leonard finally mutters as Jim begins brushing out wet knots.

Jim pauses only a moment before returning to his task. “I asked Spock to purchase you. If you are unhappy here, it will be my fault and I want you to be as comfortable as possible.” He says softly, brushing through until there are no catches, “It’s… it’s not home. Not as we knew it. But you could have a home here. With us.”

Leonard says nothing. Jim tells him how the Vulcans cut a healer’s hair and the symbols associated. He only nods for Jim to continue, nervous unease stealing his words. 

Jim pulls the center of his hair up and takes a sharp knife from his hip. Jim shaves the sides of Leonard's head and leaves the longer hair along the top, a distant echo of his former warbraids. He opens a small box he brought along and picks out five pale blue beads. Leonard sits still while Jim weaves new braids unto his hair, fine tremors building in his once steady hands. Three beads decorate one thick braid that Jim lays over his right shoulder and the other two are tucked away in the bulk of his hair.

“You will bear none of the marks of a slave.” They both turn to see Spock standing beside the tent. He offers them both hands to help them rise. Jim goes up on his toes and kisses him deeply, a hand cupping his cheek. “My t'hy'la.” He murmurs, taking another small kiss before turning to Leonard.

He breathes deeply a moment, trying to find a steady place in all the changes in his world. “Am I a slave?” He asks plainly.

Jim looks up at Spock and back at Leonard. 

“In the eyes of the law of Vulcan, you belong to me.” Spock explains, drawing Jim close with a hand at his hip, “As does my Jim. It is the way of my people and without this ownership, you may be taken by any man who decides they want you.” He raises Jim’s wrist to display the golden band too small to fit over his hand. “At dinner tonight, I will mark you in this manner.”

Leonard feels his stomach clench and nods. Spock's words make it real. Leonard McCoy is a slave.

“However.” 

Jim smiles up at his lover and Spock returns the gentle gesture. “You are a free man within my Clan.” Spock continues, “You are free to deny advances for sexual favors or pursue any favors you may wish, within polite reason. You will share the tent with Jim and I, but you are never obligated to join us in bed. Outside of that, you may do as you wish. Members of the clan will pay you for your healing services and you may do with that payment what you will.”

“It’s not your homeworld,” Jim said softly, touching Leonard’s shoulder, “But it is a good living.”

It’s not home, but it’s more than he could have dreamed of. Leonard is breathless with gratitude and fear when he asks, “I will not be made to fight?”

Spock frowns. “No man may be forced to fight.”

“Thank you.” Leonard's trembling turns to shudders, tears brimming in his eyes, “Thank you so much.”

Jim catches his shoulders and Spock steps forward and they lower him to the ground. He’s crying, sobbing into Jim’s bare shoulder.

“It is behind you.” Spock says softly, brushing his hand through Leonard’s new bangs, “Those sins are behind you.”

“Telepaths.” Leonard sniffles, a tease, no matter how watery. Jim laughs and squeezes his arms.

“Perhaps a more private binding ceremony would be appropriate for tonight.” Spock says, kissing Jim’s temple and pushing back Leonard’s hair to expose his eyes more fully. “Would you prefer that.”

Leonard manages a teary smile and nods his consent.


End file.
